Read Online Star Trek: Terok Nor 03: Dawn of the Eagles by S.D. Perry - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: S.D. Perry
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when he is picked up, he will, of course, be set free.”
“But,” Mora said, “people make mistakes. Children sometimes run off into the forests—”
“The system will not target children,” Reyar said firmly. “I saw to that. You are the template, Mora, an adult male. We are going after the resistance, Doctor, not children. We are not terrorists.”
She went on, explaining that Cardassian-sanctioned Bajoran ships would continue to function unmolested, and Mora bit his lip, bursting with questions. The system would be unaffected by children, but at what age did Reyar assume that Bajorans suddenly became dangerous? Was it based on physical sweeps, on DNA, or on some other property? And might the resistance simply begin to rely on children to run their errands for them? That wasn’t unheard of, though Mora actually knew very little about the resistance. He had never met anyone in the resistance as far as he knew, only heard rumors about them. His heart sank further in his chest as he realized that the plan he had worked on for so long would not be feasible with such a sensor system in place. He doubted very much that the Cardassians would allow his cousin to obtain a travel permit—possibly his parents wouldn’t be eligible, either. There was nothing he could do while sequestered at the institute, which, while not entirely remote, was a small distance away from the villages. As a probable target for terrorist activity, it would likely be placed beyond the perimeters of Reyar’s no-travel zones.
He kept his expression flat, desperately considering alternative possibilities as he turned back to his work. He felt the hot, eager flicker of hope slipping away from him. He put his head down and tapped at his padd, trying to formulate some kind of a plan, immediately talking himself out of anything he could think of. He would have to be clever if he meant to do something, and he wasn’t sure if it was the sort of cleverness he could deliver. These systems were going to go online, and there was nothing he could do to warn the resistance about it. He was no spy, no rebel. He was just an invisible man in a lab coat, without much of a soul left.
3
A shalla was cold today, colder than it would normally have been in Tilar, where Winn Adami had grown up, colder than in Relliketh, where she had spent five years in a Cardassian prison camp. But Vedek Winn felt warm inside today, for she had come to the Shikina Monastery at Ashalla specifically to be in the presence of the Orb, and today was the day that would finally happen.
After all that she had been through in her life, she felt that she deserved the attention of the Prophets. It had taken her the better part of the past year to get permission from the rest of the Vedek Assembly to view the Tear of the Prophet, the Orb of Prophecy and Change, the most valuable and revered object on all of Bajor—and its most closely guarded secret. As the most junior member of the Vedek Assembly, Winn had to wait for many weeks before she received word of her “clearance,” but now that she was here, her resentment at being made to wait was beginning to dissipate.
Vedek Winn awoke in the bedchamber at the Shikina Monastery with heady anticipation; she could not wait to find what important truths about herself the Prophets would reveal. Winn had always known that she was destined for something important, and after the years in the prison camp, her conviction had grown even stronger. The Prophets had arranged it so that she would survive that experience intact, but with a furious, unwavering desire to see herself vindicated for what she had been put through. The Prophets did not choose just anyone to be captured, tortured, humiliated, released, and then almost immediately chosen for the Vedek Assembly. Winn had been quite sure for some time now that she was meant to be a mouthpiece for Them, and this would be the first step toward proving it.
She brushed her soft, light hair before
“But,” Mora said, “people make mistakes. Children sometimes run off into the forests—”
“The system will not target children,” Reyar said firmly. “I saw to that. You are the template, Mora, an adult male. We are going after the resistance, Doctor, not children. We are not terrorists.”
She went on, explaining that Cardassian-sanctioned Bajoran ships would continue to function unmolested, and Mora bit his lip, bursting with questions. The system would be unaffected by children, but at what age did Reyar assume that Bajorans suddenly became dangerous? Was it based on physical sweeps, on DNA, or on some other property? And might the resistance simply begin to rely on children to run their errands for them? That wasn’t unheard of, though Mora actually knew very little about the resistance. He had never met anyone in the resistance as far as he knew, only heard rumors about them. His heart sank further in his chest as he realized that the plan he had worked on for so long would not be feasible with such a sensor system in place. He doubted very much that the Cardassians would allow his cousin to obtain a travel permit—possibly his parents wouldn’t be eligible, either. There was nothing he could do while sequestered at the institute, which, while not entirely remote, was a small distance away from the villages. As a probable target for terrorist activity, it would likely be placed beyond the perimeters of Reyar’s no-travel zones.
He kept his expression flat, desperately considering alternative possibilities as he turned back to his work. He felt the hot, eager flicker of hope slipping away from him. He put his head down and tapped at his padd, trying to formulate some kind of a plan, immediately talking himself out of anything he could think of. He would have to be clever if he meant to do something, and he wasn’t sure if it was the sort of cleverness he could deliver. These systems were going to go online, and there was nothing he could do to warn the resistance about it. He was no spy, no rebel. He was just an invisible man in a lab coat, without much of a soul left.
3
A shalla was cold today, colder than it would normally have been in Tilar, where Winn Adami had grown up, colder than in Relliketh, where she had spent five years in a Cardassian prison camp. But Vedek Winn felt warm inside today, for she had come to the Shikina Monastery at Ashalla specifically to be in the presence of the Orb, and today was the day that would finally happen.
After all that she had been through in her life, she felt that she deserved the attention of the Prophets. It had taken her the better part of the past year to get permission from the rest of the Vedek Assembly to view the Tear of the Prophet, the Orb of Prophecy and Change, the most valuable and revered object on all of Bajor—and its most closely guarded secret. As the most junior member of the Vedek Assembly, Winn had to wait for many weeks before she received word of her “clearance,” but now that she was here, her resentment at being made to wait was beginning to dissipate.
Vedek Winn awoke in the bedchamber at the Shikina Monastery with heady anticipation; she could not wait to find what important truths about herself the Prophets would reveal. Winn had always known that she was destined for something important, and after the years in the prison camp, her conviction had grown even stronger. The Prophets had arranged it so that she would survive that experience intact, but with a furious, unwavering desire to see herself vindicated for what she had been put through. The Prophets did not choose just anyone to be captured, tortured, humiliated, released, and then almost immediately chosen for the Vedek Assembly. Winn had been quite sure for some time now that she was meant to be a mouthpiece for Them, and this would be the first step toward proving it.
She brushed her soft, light hair before
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